


Desperate.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's MatsuIwa week [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Oikawa, Child Abuse, Concussions, Family not by blood, Homophobic Language, M/M, Oikawa being a saviour, Physical Abuse, homophobic father, literally saving his best friend's life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11158008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Iwaizumi's mother is in hospital. So for the past week, he's been supervised by his absolute jerk of an abusive, alcoholic, homophobic father.It's only a matter of time until he breaks, until his patience runs out."Yeah, I'm gay. What about it?" Looks like it just did.His going to need his friends more than ever if he's going to get out of this alive.





	Desperate.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags for warnings and potential triggers!  
> I'm so sorry Iwa. On your birthday as well...

The thing about family is that it isn’t decided by blood. Blood relations were one type of family, yes, but not the true family that comes from the heart. True family is the bonds a person chooses. 

Those chosen families were all the more important when blood relatives turned to betrayal.

Iwaizumi hadn’t been planning to come out to his father. His mother was in hospital for chemotherapy and Iwaizumi had been under his father’s watch for an entire week. A _week_ of having to skitter around, mind what he said, what he watched, who he interacted with. Even how he dressed and _behaved_. It was wearing him down.

Only five minutes ago, his father had walked into the room to find Iwaizumi stitching a hole in the knee of his uniform, fixing a tear from a playful scuffle with Hanamaki at lunchtime. 

His father had smacked him until he had made a sound of pain. Thrown the sewing kit across the floor. Pushed _Iwaizumi_ to the floor where his head hit the handle of the cabinet.

“- is a woman’s job! What, are you _queer_ or something?! You fuckin’ think you’re some sensitive little fag?!” Iwaizumi clenched his hand tightly, biting the inside of his cheek. One week of insults and degradation, and homophobic language. 

One week of being insulted for everything he was. 

When he tried to wash up, when he wore button up shirts, when he cooked, when he vacuumed the carpet, even when he put his clothes in the washing machine! Everything he had tried to do that he normally did, not just to help his mother out but because they were life skills, his father had beat him down and insulted him.

Iwaizumi had had _enough_. He pushed himself up, red mark across his cheek already turning into a bruise. He was pretty sure his eye was going to swell up with time too. He sneered up at his father, wiping away a tear that had formed from when his head had impacted the cabinet handle.

“Yeah, I’m gay. What about it?” Oh, how he wished he had a camera for the shock on his father’s face. The smugness quickly faded into fear when he realised what he’d said, when he saw _anger_ growing, when he knew that he had to escape immediately. He wouldn’t live if he didn’t get away.

Frantically, he scrambled away, kicking out in desperation when a hand reached for him. By some miracle, his flailing knocked away the hand intending to grab him and he managed to gain enough distance that he wasn’t within arm's reach. He staggered to his feet, vision blurring from the knock on the head and eyes swelling, and _ran_. He ran like he had never ran before, his life on the line. 

There was a reason his mother - his wonderful, loving, accepting mother - had divorced his father and moved them both away. 

She wanted to keep her son safe. She’d discovered how homophobic her husband was, and the minute her 11 year old son had told her he was gay, she’d divorced the bastard and taken Iwaizumi to safety, along with taking back her maiden name, the same one her son carried.

_“Where do I go? Shit, where can I **go**?!”_ Desperation and anguish flooding his thoughts, Iwaizumi hesitated at the end of the road with shaking legs, his bare feet numb to the stony texture underneath. 

The night was silent, agonisingly so. There was no one he could run to, no one he could beg for help, not a single person he could hide behind or give his details to should he end up dead.

His hesitation cost him precious seconds, and the air left his lungs as an elbow slammed into his back, making him choke. Bile raised in his throat and he shook as he managed to roll onto his back, terrified eyes staring up at the shadow of his father, looming over him, arm raised back with threatening strength. 

Iwaizumi raised an arms to block it, stunned when nothing came. Nothing happened.

“Get in the house now.” 

“N-No.” Ah. There it was. The harsh punch felt like it _cracked_ against his stomach, and Iwaizumi was thankful he has muscles and a little bit of podge to protect him. It still hurt. It was _agony_. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. A hand wrapped around his neck, forcefully pulling him up and dropping him on his feet.

“Get inside, _now_!” He was going to be killed. He wasn’t going to make it. His thought flashed to Oikawa, to Hanamaki, to the team, to _Matsukawa_. Tears escaped as he obediently limped towards the front door. 

The more he fought back, the more he tried to run, the worse this would be. Maybe, if he was quick, he could send a goodbye message from his phone before his father killed him.

“Iwa-chan!” A clang from behind. Iwaizumi dared to turn, breath breaking into whimpers and choked back sobs, and there was his best friend, standing over his father’s crumpled body with a metal bat in hands. The one that usually sat neglected in the corner of his room.

Oikawa exhaled with relief, keeping the bat firmly in one hand as he jogged over to Iwaizumi. Just in time, as Iwaizumi’s legs gave way beneath him, and Oikawa lunged forwards to catch him, arms around him tightly.

“Ah, Iwa-chan, shh… It’s okay, c’mon… We’re going to mine, okay? Think you can make it?” Shaken, Iwaizumi’s eyes are fixed on his father’s fallen form. His breath starts to speed up, fingers clutching desperately at Oikawa’s shirt.

“No, no, don’t look at him, Iwa-chan, look at me. Look at me, Iwa.” His hearing is like he’s underwater. His vision is blurring. His head hurts. His side hurts. His tummy hurts, his arms hurt, his legs hurt-

Everything hurts. As the panic ebbs away, the pain comes flooding in. Iwaizumi’s vision grows fuzzier, and then everything goes black as he passes out in Oikawa’s arms.

“... Shit.” Dropping the bat, Oikawa changes tactic. He leans back so Iwaizumi is flopped against him, and quickly loops his arms under Iwaizumi’s butt. It might not be elegant to carry him this way, but it’s the best he can do in these circumstances. 

He has to be quick. 

A knock like that won’t keep Iwaizumi’s father down for long, and Matsukawa is frantically pacing back and forth in Oikawa’s room. He and Hanamaki had come over the second they knew something was wrong. 

Iwaizumi had missed their skype call. He _never_ missed a skype call. That was the point Matsukawa had dragged Hanamaki over because Oikawa’s house was closer than theirs, and they could do more there. 

Oikawa, of course, hadn’t waited for them to arrive. He knew they were there now, thanks to the miracles of texting, but he had left the house almost instantly, grabbing his bat on the way, because he feared the worst. Adjusting Iwaizumi in his arms, he knows his gut feeling was right. There’s a soft groan against his shoulder.

“Hang on Iwa, just a little further.”

“Oi… Ka…”

“Shh, don’t talk.”

“Ho- How…?” The quiet mumble needs no more words, and Oikawa understands immediately.

“You missed our Skype call. We knew something was wrong that very second. And… I had an inkling, Iwa-chan. You had new bruises everyday, and when I asked Mattsun, he said they definitely weren’t left by him.”

“I- ‘sei…”

“Mhm, he’s at mine. You’ll see him soon. Now shh. You need to rest.” Iwaizumi grunts, although it’s weak as a kitten, and his head rests a little heavier on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Stay awake, though. You’re showing signs of concussion.”

“Mhm. Hit m’head.”

“On what?”

“Handle.”

“What part of your head?” There’s quiet, nothing more than harsh breathing, and Oikawa pinches Iwaizumi’s inner thigh as he carries him.

“ _What_ part, Iwa-chan?”

“Par’tal ridge…” The side, then. As Oikawa turns the corner to his street, there’s light flooding out from his house. Hanamaki sits on the doorstep, and eagerly bounds over to meet them.

“Holy _shit_ , what happened?”

“I don’t know, Makki. But I can take a guess that the _bastard_ who hurt Iwa-chan is probably gaining conscious right about now. Hurry up and get inside, lock the doors behind me, seal up the windows, and call the police.” Hanamaki nods with a dark expression, stepping aside to let Oikawa in and closing the door behind him. Oikawa hurries into the living room, shouting for his mama as he passes the kitchen. 

“Loud…”

“Shh, I’m sorry, Iwa-chan. We’ll try and be quiet.” Oikawa Azumi enters the room and quickly pads over to help Oikawa lay Iwaizumi on the sofa, silent as she moves the pillows around to keep him comfy. She nods as her son whispers to her where Iwaizumi hit his head and how his behaviour has been on the way over.

“- told Makki to call the police. But we might need an ambulance too.”

“I’ll do that. You get some ice on him, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mama.” She gives him a wobbly smile, stroking a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair as she gets up and walks out, taking the phone from Hanamaki before it even connects.

“Takahiro, dear, could you sit with Issei, please? Tooru’s already on the verge of freaking out, and I know Issei would too if he came down and saw what was happening.” Hanamaki nods numbly and turns on his heel to jog up the stairs. He pauses in front of Oikawa’s room to take a deep breath. There’s no telling how Matsukawa will react when he hears Iwaizumi is here, and it may mean fighting to keep him in the room.

“Oi, Mattsun, I’m coming in.” He pushes the door open, frown increasing when he sees how _weary_ Matsukawa looks. He’s hunched over, stress tugging at his eyes and creases set deep into his face. His shoulders are high with tension, almost curling in on himself, hands squeezing together so forcefully that his knuckles are white. He looks up with a jolt as Hanamaki walks over to him, crouching in front of him and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Matsukawa winces, and even Hanamaki grimaces like he regrets asking the _stupidest_ question. Well, maybe not the stupidest. But certainly not the smartest either.

“I, uh… I meant… You holding up?” Matsukawa scoffs with a bitter laugh.

“ _Holding up_? Makki, I am so close to decking you, going downstairs, and sweeping him into my arms and never letting go. Th- The only reason I’m _not_ is because I heard he needs an a-ambulance…” His voice quivers, and something breaks. He hunches over tighter, one hand across his mouth as a mangled cry escapes, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible as tears start to trail down his cheeks.

“Oh, shit, Mattsun…” Hanamaki reaches forwards, hugging his best friend securely. 

It takes a long time for Matsukawa to calm.   
Long after angry knocks at the front door, Iwaizumi’s father demanding to be let in.   
Long after police sirens, followed by an altercation.   
Long after there are voices downstairs, a first responder on the scene. 

It’s not until there’s a soft knock on the bedroom door that Matsukawa looks up, wiping away spent tears. Oikawa Azumi gives a fragile smile from the doorway.

“Can I come in?”

“It’s your house, ma’am.” Azumi scoffs as she makes her way over to the bed, sitting next to Matsukawa and pulling him into a hug.

“That may be, but you’re all my boys and respect for privacy goes both way. And I told you to call me Mum~. Or Aunty, if you’re not comfortable with that.” Matsukawa manages a small, genuine smile as she pats his back. Blood related, they are not. 

But family, they _are_. All their parents - sans Iwaizumi’s father - are very close to the four boys, pretty much claiming all of them as their sons. And it’s this fact that gives Matsukawa a little bit of hope.

“Hey, Aunty? What’s gonna happen to Hajime…?” With a sigh, Azumi gently pushes Matsukawa away so he sits up straight, and ruffles Hanamaki’s hair.

“Firstly, he’s not going to hospital. The First Responder says he has concussion, but as long as he doesn’t sleep and he doesn’t eat anything for the next few hours, he should be okay. We’re to take him in if anything changes. Secondly, Hisawa-san has been taken by the police. I-... I’m not entirely sure what will happen. Tooru talked more with them than I did. Lastly… You can come and see Hajime now~.”

“Thank _fuck_.” With great relief, Matsukawa almost starts crying again. The only reason he doesn’t is because he’s more focused on getting up and skipping every second step as he heads downstairs, pausing before the living room door to compose himself. Oikawa sits by the sofa, holding Iwaizumi’s hand, and smiles up at Matsukawa.

“Iwa-chan, guess who’s here to see you?”

“Don’t play dumb games with me, Dummykawa.” The corners of Matsukawa’s lips twitch up. Looks like Iwaizumi is going to be okay after all. Maybe. There’s bound to be some remaining fear, possibly a developed trauma, and if he hasn’t already broken down, then he’s bound to soon. Now that he’s safe, he may feel secure enough to break.

“Hey, Hajime~.” The _second_ Matsukawa comes into view, Iwaizumi reaches up for him with a cut off plea. Oikawa shuffles to the side to let Matsukawa in closest to Iwaizumi, and he gently lifts Iwaizumi’s upper half into a sitting position, hugging him tightly. Iwaizumi _clings_ to him, whether out of desperation or comfort, Matsukawa can’t tell.

“Hajime, Hajime, it’s okay, I’m right here, I’m here, Hajime…” He knows he’s blabbering. He knows he’s just repeating himself over and over again. But he just can’t _stop_. It feels like a miracle that Iwaizumi is here in his arms, alive and in one piece. Roughed up and suffering from concussion, but he’s here. He’s _here_.

“I- Issei…” He pulls away with a soft exhale, a small gap between their faces. Iwaizumi closes the distance, pressing their foreheads together, and Matsukawa moves his hands to each of Iwaizumi’s cheeks, brushing away tears as they fall. 

He’s especially gentle with Iwaizumi’s left side, swollen and bruised. It’s a black eye that’ll last a few days. The bag of ice on the sofa just beside where his head was shows that Oikawa’s been forcing him to ice it.

“I was so scared, I thought- I thought he was going to kill me, I was so so scared, I wouldn’t have- I wouldn’t have got to say goodbye, he was going to kill me, I- I thought he would, I thought he would…!”

“Shhh, shh… You’re safe now, Hajime.” Iwaizumi’s breath hitches with an embarrassing squeak as he gasps for air, feeling panic wrap its slimy hands around his lungs and stomach, a chill down his spine and shivers racking his frame. He’s safe.

He’s _safe_.

He’s safe, but he still feels on edge, he still feels like there’s something after, he still feels the need to run away and he can’t _help_ it, he’s going to _die if he’s caught_ -

“Hajime!” The call of his name snaps him out of it and he’s suddenly back in Oikawa’s living room, head spinning and stomach twisting. A bucket is thrust in front of him via Oikawa and Matsukawa holds him up, rubbing his back as he’s sick. Once he’s done, Oikawa takes the bucket away for rinsing.

“Don’t let him fall asleep, Mattsun.”

“I know.” Iwaizumi gives a groggy groan, Matsukawa wiping his mouth and chin with a tissue.

“Don’t baby me.”

“I’m not, I’m not~. Just making sure there’s no sick on you.”

“... Thank you…” Iwaizumi pats the space behind him where he was lying down, and Matsukawa shuffles into it, sitting back against the sofa as Iwaizumi lies down in his lap, resting his not-bruised cheek on Matsukawa’s warm thigh.

“Comfy?”

“Mhm. Always.” With a chuckle, Matsukawa starts to softly play with Iwaizumi’s hair. Not enough to lull him to sleep, but just enough to relax him. His lap is Iwaizumi’s favourite resting place, warm and cozy. If this is where he feels safe most, Matsukawa will gladly indulge him.

“I love you, Hajime.”

“Love you too, ‘sei.” Hanamaki peers around the doorframe, Matsukawa only catching his appearance by the reflection in the TV. He gives a thumbs up and grin over his shoulder, noticing how Hanamaki sighs in relief, physically sagging at the news. He gives a thumbs up back and then disappears, presumably into the kitchen.

“... Oi, you were told no sleeping.”

“M’just resting my eyes…” Matsukawa pokes his arm, making one eye squint open at him angrily.

“No sleeping~.” Iwaizumi grunts, but he does as told, giving one hand to Matsukawa so he can circle his thumb continuously and occasionally squeeze, reassuring Matsukawa that he’s awake. They stay this way for hours, even as the others eat at the table across the room, casual conversation soothing the air and making everything feel… Okay. 

It isn’t. Matsukawa knows that. He can tell from the way Iwaizumi flinches every time Hanamaki mentions his own dad. He knows because Iwaizumi frowns a little deeper as Oikawa talks about “being hit on”. 

He feels it, when tears start to soak through his trousers and Iwaizumi shakes, knowing his family is far from this peaceful.

His mother is sick, getting chemotherapy in hospital and hoping it works this time, and his father is a disgusting sack of abusive, homophobic shit - hopefully now in prison.

Iwaizumi’s family is… On the verge of breaking, to say the least. But that is his blood related family, and Matsukawa knows that _true_ family is more than that.

“You can come live with me, until your mum comes back.”

“H-huh? Really? Your parents… Would they… Be okay with that?” Matsukawa smiles lovingly, giving Iwaizumi’s hand a soft but firm squeeze.

“Of course~. They love you, y’know? You’re family too.”

“I- I guess… Since m’gonna be their son-in-law one day.” A burst of laughter, filled with delight escapes Matsukawa and he leans down to kiss Iwaizumi’s forehead, ignoring the fact that it’s a little uncomfortable because he’s not _that_ flexible.

“You better remember that when you don’t have concussion, Hajime~.”

“Of course I will.”

“But you’re family even without marriage ties. You’re Oikawa’s family, you’re Hanamaki’s family, you’re probably the whole team’s family! We’re all family, just ‘cus we chose to be. Cus we love you.” He pauses.

“Well, I love you in a _romantic_ way, but my parents and brothers love you in a family way.” Iwaizumi blinks, absorbing all he’s said, and then grins, wide and beautiful.

“Mhm~. I’m happy, in that case. I have the _best_ family.”


End file.
